Aunt Linda’s View from the Cottage

One day after school, I came home with a pretty flower for my mother. I was six, and in those innocent days, we walked to and from school without adult supervision. On this particular day, Mom was waiting for me and didn’t seem at all surprised that I had a flower for her. In fact, she knew which neighbor’s yard it had come from. Apparently, the neighbor had seen me pick it and called. Mom had to gently explain to me that the flowers belonged to the neighbor, and I was not to pick them without permission.

As I wrote mu previous post about May baskets, I was feeling a little sad and nostalgic for those long-ago days. These days it seems that neighbors often don’t know each. And that many of the old customs that made life a little more joyous, have fallen away. My May Day was shaping up to be just another, ordinary day.

That afternoon, the doorbell rang. I ran down the stairs from my office and opened the door to find flowers lying on the doormat. Some of them looked suspiciously like the bleeding hearts and azaleas growing in my yard, and the stems had been plucked short. Still, they warmed my heart. So, just as my grandmother had done for me, I wondered aloud who could have possibly left the lovely flowers. I heard some giggles behind a bush; there were four neighbor kids with big smiles on their faces. They came running to me for hugs. Then, of course, they had to take a quick peek into the Elfery™ which was bedecked in May Day ribbons and flowers.

I hope that long after this day is over, these dear children will have sweet memories of the fun they had surprising a neighbor lady with May flowers. I hope too, that they will pass on the tradition, making their little corner of the world a more joyful place, as they had made mine.